


I might not be a debonaire, but I’m definitely a hedonist

by exquisiteagony



Category: Dope (US Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Hair Pulling, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, polycule, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27010078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exquisiteagony/pseuds/exquisiteagony
Summary: Acey fucks his way round most of Dope.
Relationships: Acey Slade/ Racci Shay, Acey Slade/ Virus, Acey Slade/Edsel Dope, Acey Slade/Preston Nash, Virus/Racci Shay
Kudos: 1





	I might not be a debonaire, but I’m definitely a hedonist

**Author's Note:**

> It's Dope, having a polycule. Also the first horny fic I ever wrote so please be kind.

Acey couldn’t really remember the first time it happened. Not that he’d been all fucked up; on the contrary he’d been nearly two years sober, but it had come about so naturally that it wasn’t some sudden epiphany-like moment like he’d thought it might have been before it happened. All he remembered was that it had been with Preston, his dreads a much thicker tangle of stringy blackness than their shit-talking stoner vocalist, his arms thicker, stronger, holding on to Acey whilst almost pushing him away like the bassist was both a lifeline and the cracking ice beneath his feet. 

It became a more regular thing afterwards; stolen moments in public restrooms, or once they had more money to their name, in motels and hotels. Each would return the favour, and they’d usually collapse against each other, sweaty and worn out, foreheads pressed together in a smirking, chuckling show of affection so bro-like it seemed like an attempt on both their parts to offset what they did, hands clasped around the other’s head before they clapped each other’s shoulders, pulled their pants up, and went about life like they’d never speak about it again.

Then Preston got a girlfriend, and Acey failed to keep one, and they stopped. Their friendship remained, and they found the ease to joke about it, but they never fucked again.

Acey didn’t know how to feel when Preston left the band a year later.

Edsel had been next, pent up and manic after a show, and Acey couldn’t be certain he wasn’t high, in fact he was certain he was high, but they’d found an abandoned store-cupboard. Edsel had tried and failed to muffle his grunts in Acey’s dreads and neck, curses and moans of ‘oh fuck, more’ spilling from his lips whilst he tried to muffle his louder grunts through hickeys, which had been pretty hot in a way Acey had never expected.

There had been no tenderness to it.

Oh, Edsel had prepped him first, so properly even in his intoxicated state a myriad question bubbled up in Acey’s throat, none passing his lips, but the way Edsel barely acknowledged him for the rest of the night and most of the next day, the way he’d grunted a gruff thanks once they were done before heading out, red-faced from shame, had kinda hurt.

Edsel hadn’t returned the favour, either, only offered up a joke alluding to the stint he’d done in jail a few years ago with an awkward chuckle before he’d left so abruptly Acey couldn’t respond, only stand there and feel disgustingly used and pathetically distressed about said fact.

Because Edsel’s excuse was a bullshit excuse, because Acey knew Edsel, knew he was selfish and insecure, but he had at least blown him before fucking him, which was way better than a return anyway, and he existed on a bigger cocktail of antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds than Acey did, so Acey assumed it was more to do with his perceived lack of control and let it slide with another slab of self-loathing on his shoulders.

Ha. _Cock_ tail. 

Whatever.

Then Edsel had come back for more, which certainly boosted Acey’s self esteem, even though ‘Christ, your ass is a gift,’ isn’t the most run-of-the-mill of compliments, even whilst rumbled down his spine in the heat of the moment.

As with Preston before - as with most things unexpected but surprisingly delightful - it had escalated. This time they didn’t _need_ public restrooms anymore - the band were signed to a semi-major label now, and now they had a proper bus and more hotel nights - but Edsel had the sex-drive of a fucking rabbit, and the dangers of public sex were all pretty thrilling, so they did anyway.

But they both agreed it was better in hotel rooms, where they could have an entire night to themselves and explore shit, take the time to figure it all out, learn about what the other liked and figure out what they liked.

Edsel liked control, which was a surprise to absolutely no one, but it extended beyond just holding onto Acey and mumbling one-word semi-commands as he only thought about his impending orgasm.

What was a surprise for Acey was finding out that he kinda liked Edsel being in control, pushing his hands away when he tried to jerk off, telling him he could either cum from just Edsel in him or not at all - which made him simply dribble out his orgasm with no relief and made him want to go again even though he knew he would be too sensitive - or actually jerking him off whilst fucking him, whispering in his ear as he did so. Usually Acey was far too gone in all of the sensations he was feeling to actually listen, eyes rolling back and tongue beginning to loll out of his mouth in pleasure, but Edsel always sounded cocky (ha), so he could take a guess at what he was saying if he wanted to.

What always made Acey smirk and snark back was the surprised noises Edsel made when he came when Edsel was in him. If he wasn’t close before he usually was afterwards, and watching his face was a source of constant amusement, his eyes going from smug to bug-wide, his mouth falling open as his head tipped back in unexpected pleasure. He would usually get some form of revenge though, mostly in the form of pumping Acey until he was wriggling from overstimulation, smugly smirking at his whimpers and wriggles, his eyes challenging him to continue talking shit.

Sometimes he would continue, because the overstimulation was horrible but wonderful, and he liked being messed with until he jerked about like a rag doll, liked the loss of control in equal to Edsel’s desire for control. Usually he might behave, but the occasional disobedience did thrill him.

Another thing he learnt, almost by accident, was that he could get hard from being spanked. Edsel began to make a point of snapping wet towels, not at his legs anymore, but his ass, smirking like an absolute bastard like he was just daring Acey to find somewhere to jerk off. The others cottoned on, which was embarrassing at first, and Acey wound up with a week in hell in which his bandmates would play a game of ‘who can make Acey pitch the biggest tent in his pants by snapping damp towels and T-shirts at his ass?’, culminating in them making him pitch a tent, keeping it up enough to make him uncomfortably hard even whilst they were walking onstage, and he had to play a show as if he wasn’t sporting the biggest boner he’d ever had in his life and was desperate to get off.

At least Edsel had fucked him afterwards.

That was the first time he wore Edsel out before he was done, though he had also promised a repeat experience if Acey was down for it, with the added threat of making him wear panties to make his hard-on especially uncomfortable if he started being a bitch. Acey immediately pitched a tent at that thought, and took the time to furiously masturbate at the first chance he got.

Panties (and maybe being tied down but shhhh) was hot, and Edsel’s threat apparently became jerk-off material for nearly a week, before more shenanigans occurred to give him new jerk-off material.

If fucking his vocalist was weird, realising that he liked being the little spoon was weirder. Edsel would wrap himself around him, and make satisfied little whines and grunts into Acey’s neck when he was drifting off to sleep, too sleepy to care that he wasn’t being ‘manly’ or whatever. It was fucking hilarious, but Edsel couldn’t stand being laughed at or made fun of, so Acey would just chuckle to himself, roll over, and wrap Edsel into an even bigger hug.

Virus, once he’d joined the band, had a weird hangup about groupies; namely that they were all chicks, so he wouldn’t exactly fuck them, just keep the dirty stuff to hands and mouths. ‘They could get pregnant! I’m not about that shit!’, he’d bitched when Simon had poked fun at him, but they’d all almost ganged up on him, exaggerating about the last time they’d slept with a woman to rub it in.

That night he’d come to Acey with a raging boner, telling him not to speak of it again, before announcing that Acey was pretty enough for a guy, and that he had nice enough hair that if he turned over Virus could pretend he was a chick.

Acey learnt two things that night. One: however hung Edsel might be - for all his jokes about how big his dick was he wasn’t really joking - at least he knew how to prep Acey properly, and two: Virus had hangups about pretty much everything sexual, and that apparently extended to fucking his co-guitarist. 

“You know the only dude in this band I haven’t fucked is Simon, right?” The words had come out as a series of pants, Acey rolling onto his back and letting himself fall into the feeling of post-sex emptiness, letting all his muscles relax before he decided he would jerk off back in his room - Virus had been a disappointing fuck indeed, and Acey had yet to get off.

Virus had stared at him for about ten seconds, wide eyed and open mouthed, the apparently new information washing over him.

“What? So you’re, like,” he awkwardly trailed off, making a gesture Acey decided to translate as an inquiry into his sexuality, snorting at the awkward man next to him.

“Nah. I just pretty much live on a bus with guys, I can barely keep a girlfriend, and I don’t mind getting it up the ass.” Acey counted his reasons off on his fingers with a smirk, filing away the idle thought of seeing if his current girlfriend would be into pegging him.

This was, he realised after jerking off in his room, the first time he’d felt the bravado his voice implied.

He’d learnt from Edsel to pretend cocky confidence until it wasn’t pretence anymore. It was probably something to thank him for, god knows Edsel needed to hear something kind.

He had quite a lot to thank Edsel for.

Whatever. 

Virus must have gathered the balls to speak to Edsel, for the next few times he was a lot more careful, going in slower and doing the necessary preparations required.

Acey still preferred Edsel, but he was far closer to him, and Edsel was nicer to actually spend the night with.

Whatever. There were bigger things to think about, like how shit of a time the hotel cleaning staff had after they left. 

Racci was both youngest and newest, which, no-matter his tremendous talent, made him bottom of the pecking order. (Ha! Bottom! Heh.)

Not that he apparently seemed to mind much. Huh. Though some people were weird like that - he was - so who was he to judge?

Acey was the first to fuck their new drummer, figuring that if it was Racci’s first time (he learnt it wasn’t later) he should probably not have the biggest dick in him, and Jesus. If he’d thought Edsel’s grunts and mumbles were hot, Racci’s noises during sex took the fucking cake, and his lithe body had squirmed about for more before Acey took pity and jerked him off. That first time was the shortest he’d ever lasted, which was pretty embarrassing, but he’d let Racci fuck him back.

Maybe he was biased, but Edsel fucked the best.

Virus was evidently in want of sex but not all that keen on making Edsel share, because Acey could hear him with their drummer after he and Edsel were finished. It sounded almost like strangers in the room next to them watching a gay porno, but Acey and Edsel both recognised those moans and whimpers, even through the wall.

Sometimes Racci’s moaning made them want to go again, and sometimes they were worn out enough to just giggle like kids over it, snickering away at Racci’s pornstar moans and utterances and Virus’s grunts.

Simon and Sloane, in their shared room, always seemed to keep away from the sexual side of things.

A shame, because Acey had heard a lot about Simon’s dick, and was almost curious, and Sloane was pretty in a dudebro kind of way. But they ‘didn’t want in on the action’, so it was whatever.

It had been Edsel’s idea, because this sort of shit usually was. Whilst actually getting fucked in front of other people wasn’t usually Acey’s style, he’d been fucked by Racci and Virus, and he’d fucked Racci, so it wasn’t exactly virgin company, and voyeurism was something he’d kind of thought about before, though never summed up the guys to truly ask for.

Once Edsel was inside him, Acey stopped trying to think. He let himself relax against the hotel sheets beneath him, arms braced in front of him, breathing and taking in the sensation of Edsel beginning to jerk him off, letting all the moans and whimpers out of his mouth with little regard for his current company.

Racci was even louder, and when Acey looked up, the drummer’s mouth was a fixed ‘o’ of ecstasy, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. Behind him, Virus moved his hand beneath him, and Racci’s moans and whimpers grew in pitch and volume, his hips twitching of their own accord, a wide smile of utter ecstasy decorating his face.

Acey’s own impending orgasm reared its head, aided by a few slaps to his ass, and the noise he made was straight up undignified; a strangled cross between a moan and a whimper and a grunt, his knees trembling with the effort of keeping his body off the bed so Edsel could jerk him. Edsel chuckled behind him, the humour a rumble down his back towards his boner, but Edsel slowed down and withdrew his hand just before Acey thought he might jizz all over the sheets, his chuckle turning smug. Acey was so fucking hard he wondered if the scratch of the sheets on him might be enough stimulation to blow his load regardless of Edsel cutting off all previous stimulation, and his hips seemed to jerk of their own accord, leaving him rutting against the bed like a bitch in heat, something Edsel picked up to tease at him with, long fingers tugging his head back by his dreads to growl in his ear whilst his other hand played with his nipples to see how loudly he could make him moan.

Then Edsel’s hand was back, but tight around him, too tight for him to even dribble out in a hellishly pleasurable combination of overstimulation and under-stimulation, and he whined in need as if that would make Edsel relent, thrashing about like a rag doll in pent up desperation.

He didn’t relent until Acey thought his balls might drop off. By that time he was whining and moaning like an absolute whore, and Racci was actually fucking laughing at him, and oh the next time he fucked Racci he would show him just how hellishly nice it was, and let him know the sort of noises he was making, but then his mind whited out from Edsel finally letting him blow his load all over the sheets in what was perhaps the biggest orgasm he’d ever had.

He should probably leave a tip for the poor cleaning staff, he mused, peeling the sheet away from his navel after Edsel got off him in a weird post-orgasmic haze.

God, being a hotel cleaner must fucking suck. The amount of jizz and blood and other stains he’d encountered in badly-cleaned hotels always made him pity the staff, but he’d never really thought about it beyond ‘that shit sucks’.

Then Racci was whining again, coherence failing him, and he actually squeaked, more high-pitched noises caught in his throat.

Looking up, Acey gave their drummer a smirk.

“Shut up,” was all Racci could groan in return before Edsel was presumably inside him.

Acey could certainly sympathise with Racci’s wide eyed groan. Edsel had the biggest dick he’d ever seen on another human, and it always was quite something to have in you.

Then persistent knocking was hammered out on the door.

Virus was god knows where, probably taking a piss, and Racci and Edsel were busy, so Acey decided he might as well be the one to answer the door.

Checking the peephole - it was Sloane and Simon, arms crossed and scowling - Acey opened the door wide enough to talk.

“Can you cunts keep it down? We need sleep.”

Acey grinned at Sloane. “Not my fault Racci moans like a whore in bed.”

“No. It’s his.”

“Not much I can do.”

“I can hear your fucking moaning,” Sloane grumbled, but he didn’t press the matter, just tugged on Simon’s sleeve to drag him back to their room.

Simon didn’t go, frowning like he had something to say.

Acey didn’t have time for this - there was sex to have, for Christ’s sake - and he was gonna make him leave. “Besides, Edsel’s fucking hung, so it’s not like Racci can keep it down.”

“My dick’s bigger,” Simon said automatically, because he had to outdo Edsel whenever he could, and apparently this was as good a time as any. His face immediately paled like he regretted speaking. Acey continued anyway.

“I’d like to be the judge of that.” He smirked and crossed his arms, well aware that he was stood in a hotel doorway butt naked and semi-hard.

Simon paled further and went back to bed.

Arms wrapped around Acey’s waist, pulling him back, so he shut the door, thankful that none of the other hotel residents had emerged at the noises, and tipped his head back against Virus and let himself be dragged back towards the bed.

Most of Virus’s hangups, Acey had discovered, were due to his failure to come to terms with his bisexuality. Once he had they had gone, and he was a far better fuck than before.

That didn’t mean he fancied Acey or anything - at least Acey hoped not cuz he didn’t want to let down Virus with a ‘sorry you’re not my type’ or whatever - but he’d become far more chill.

Racci’s whines and moans were rising in pitch. Some actual words were tumbling out of his mouth too, but they mainly consisted of mumbles of ‘oh fuck’, ‘yes, yes, yes’, and one ‘oh you bastard!’, squealed in desperation after Edsel decided to tease him too.

Kneeling on the bed, Acey grabbed a handful of Racci’s dreads and gave them gentle but sharp tugs, smirking at the whines filtering out of his mouth.

It was funny how much Racci loved having his hair pulled.

“Once Edsel‘s finishes with you you’re gonna blow me.”

Racci was too close to his impending orgasm to give much of a reply, but the hasty squeal he could manage every time his hair was tugged indicated his enthusiasm.

Then Virus was proving that however much he might be lacking in fucking he was certainly good with his fingers, and Acey rolled his eyes back in his head.

Then Virus slowed down.

“I’ll keep you nice and ready for Racci.” His voice was a grunt in his ear, his hips rolling against his ass, showing off how hard he was, and Acey whimpered and wondered how he could hold himself back this much. “Don’t want you to have too much fun and wear yourself out.” 

“I should keep messing with Racci for longer. Just to torture them both.” Edsel was obviously trying to give a blank, emotionless statement, but his moans between every other word belied he wouldn’t have Racci much longer. Virus just chuckled, and jerked Acey until he thought he would explode from frustration.

Then he stopped and chuckled at Acey’s whines, laughed at how his hips jerked of their own accord to chase his hand, and pushed him onto the bed to kneel so Virus could slap his ass so he stayed hard without being able to go over the edge. His whining grew until Edsel’s huge hand started leaving faint prints on his ass.

Virus pushed Acey’s hands every time they gravitated to jerk off, dragging his wrists almost behind his back and half-threatening to tie him up if he couldn't behave.

Then it was Racci’s time to blow him, his mouth a wide, dangerous smirk as he lowered his face, and the boring part of Acey’s brain almost regretted asking for the blowjob.

Because it wasn’t exactly like Racci didn’t have a few tricks up his sleeve.

Every time he thought he might finally be able to blow his load into his drummer’s mouth Racci would chuckle - which sent vibrations right through him and made him more desperate than he remembered ever being - and take his face away, instead reaching to dig his fingers into the bruises on Acey’s ass to make him moan, leaving him rutting against air.

Behind him someone yanked his dreads, and he turned his face up.

“Me first,” Virus smirked, and Acey was only too happy to oblige. Once his horny brain was sure enough that Racci could hold his body weight, he wrapped his arms around Virus and started blowing him with all he could give.

Virus still came four times before he did, even though Acey had felt the mattress dip as Edsel stood behind Virus to fuck him.

Virus was someone who could last forever though, and he hadn’t been left on edge and teased repeatedly all night. Even the thought of it nearly made Acey shoot his load with a moan, but Racci just pulled back, moving with the same surprising dexterity as before despite having two people above him to let him twitch and moan and rut the air like an absolute whore.

Once he’d pulled back from the edge, whining and squirming like he had no control over his body, the mattress shifted again. Not long later - before Racci started blowing him again - he could hear the bath running. Then Racci put his mouth back, moaning as he did so.

Acey wasn’t sure what happened outside of his experiences, but almost immediately Virus was in him and Racci was blowing him, and this time neither stopped when he moaned the way he did when he was so close another suck or thrust would send him over the edge.

His orgasm made him hazy again for a few seconds, thighs trembling to maintain balance, arms twisted behind him around Virus’s legs. Once he let go Virus pulled out and wrapped his arms around him to keep him upright whilst Racci didn’t stop. 

Usually it would be far too much, but he’d been teased so much that Racci blowing him through four more orgasms was bliss as well as torture, and he was a slave to his desires. 

After he finished, Acey wasn’t quite sure how to move.

Or speak. 

Or think.

“Racci, I think you blew his brains out,” Edsel chuckled from just behind him, before nuzzling his chin into his neck and replacing Virus behind him. “I ran the bath. We all need it.”

With little further ado Acey was picked up and carried to the bathtub whilst he yawned in Edsel’s arms.

Soon they were all in it together. It was far too small for the four of them, nearly overflowing from containing four men as well as water, but Edsel was massaging his thighs, and all he could really do was sleepily grunt his enjoyment and tip his head back against Edsels chest whilst he gently held him and rubbed at his chest, too blissed out to think. Racci grabbed at his hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and they both chuckled. After a short while they all scrubbed each other clean, mumbling tiredly and yawning and cuddling, laughing amongst themselves whilst they figured out how to get out of the water once they started pruning.

Afterwards, once they were all clean and ready for bed, they all slept on the bed together, sticky sheets be damned. They’d probably have to shower in the morning, but whatever. That was daylight’s problem, and they were too tired to deal with it now.

Then Acey’s head hit the pillow, and he was out like a light.


End file.
